Turn Up The Radio
by PuppyRhodes
Summary: Bruce's family was thrilled to have their son accepted to Cambridge. Bruce, on the other hand, was a little more nervous. And then there is the small matter of his charismatic and polar opposite room mate; one Tony Stark. Will they make it work? Will they kill each other before the end of the year? Will Tony ever turn off the goddamn music? Student AU


When they had received the letter saying that Bruce had been accepted to Cambridge University, his parents had been thrilled. Of course, they had always known that Bruce was smart and that he could attend any University in the world if he wanted to, but Cambridge was fantastic. It had the history, as well as the facilities to properly further Bruce's potential, unlike so many of the schools he had been to so far. For their only child, this was the perfect opportunity.

Bruce, on the other hand, was a little less excited by the idea. He was glad to have been accepted by such a famous university that could put him well on the way to any career he chose, but the idea of having to move away from home scared him more than he would ever admit. He had only just come to terms with perhaps moving out of the state to attend Uni, but moving all the way to another country was something else entirely. And England of all places. Not that he had anything against the country in particular, but he was sure there must be nicer places to spend four years of your life.

He had tried to explain his concerns to his parents, and they tried to listen, but they were too caught up in the idea of their little boy attending Cambridge that they all but forced the decision on him. They told him that they would call him regularly and send him some things to help him settle into his room. That was the one small comfort to Bruce; that he would be living on campus, in the halls, and that he wouldn't have to find a house to live in, with complete strangers.

And so the day came. Bruce was packed off to the airport with his whole family there to send him off on his travels. Bruce didn't recognise some of the people there, but he was happy that so many people were there to wish him well, that so many people actually cared. It took him five minutes to pry himself from his mother's arms, and even then, she almost seemed to change her mind about letting her little boy go off to England. His father helped him out, and with the promise that he would call as soon as he landed, he turned and left. Only once he was around the corner did he let his smile drop a little. He almost felt like crying, but that would cause him more embarrassment than it was worth, so he sucked it up, and went on his way towards his gate.

The flight went as well as it could have. Bruce ended up squashed up between the window and a rotund older woman who must have been getting shrapnel wounds in her face from how fast she was eating. He was fortunate enough to have avoided most of the spray she was giving off, and answered her politely whenever she turned to talk to him, but he was glad to finally get off the plane.

He retrieved his large suitcase and left the vast building that was Heathrow Airport, stepping out into the brisk English autumn. He looked out, and everything seemed grey. The sky, the buildings, the traffic, even the people. It all looked dull, and Bruce instantly wished he had stayed in America. But it was a little late for that, and he knew it. He had to at least give this a go. If it went that badly, he could think of a Plan B. He hailed a taxi, and was driven into Cambridge city by a friendly old man, who smiled and, after he sussed Bruce's accent, told him everything that was good about England. Bruce wasn't wholly convinced by the cabbie; he had heard the horror stories of terrible driving, miserable weather, disgusting food and even more miserable people, but he was just glad to have a lighthearted chat with the first pleasant person he had come across in eight hours.

The cabbie said good bye when they arrived in Cambridge, and was even kind enough to give Bruce some money back. "Y'seem like a nice enough kid. Hate to make you broke on your first day, now." He had laughed, before telling Bruce, as well as he could, how to get to the University. Apparently, you couldn't miss it.

And when Bruce came into view of it, he really couldn't have missed it. It was an astounding complex of old architecture; spiraling towers, little statues, huge windows and elaborate pillars. It looked more like a castle than any university Bruce had ever seen. He managed to peel his eyes away from the place long enough to head inside to where he had been told in an email that he had to go to register. It was a small office just inside the building. He was met by a sweet young woman who had given him his student card and a few last bits of paperwork he would eventually have to fill out and return, along with a map, a timetable and some leaflets about Cambridge and other places around that Bruce might like to visit while he was in the country. Then the lady lead him round to the halls where he would be living, chatting away with him about any little thing, trying to be as warm and welcoming as she could, and Bruce had to admit it was working. After they had only walked a short way, he already felt a little more at ease with the place. As long as everyone was this kind, he would be fine.

Then, they arrived at the corridor that contained Bruce's new room. As soon as they rounded the corner, Bruce could hear loud music blaring out from one of the rooms. He couldn't make out exactly what it was, or which room it was coming from, but he suddenly lost all his feelings of comfort and silently prayed that he wouldn't be in which ever room the music was coming from.

"I'm so sorry about the noise." The office lady smiled, laughing nervously. "I'll get him to turn it off while we're up here." So, this was obviously a regular thing, Bruce thought.

The pair stopped outside the last door on the left side of the hall, which didn't do Bruce anything good. It meant that this was probably his room, or else the woman would have dropped him there before coming here to get the music turned off. Oh dear. She tapped her knuckles on the pale wood, hopefully loud enough to be heard over what Bruce could now hear was some AC/DC song. He recognised it, but couldn't tell you what it was called. "Tony!" The woman called, trying the door again. There was a second, before the music was turned down a fraction and the door swung open, revealing Bruce's new roomie.

He was a well built young man, around Bruce's height, with dark brown hair which was swept back, and a goatee of a slightly darker colour that looked perfectly well maintained. His eyes were hazel, and he was dressed in a battered old pair of jeans and a baggy band shirt. His hands were stuffed into his pockets and he smiled.

"Yes, can I-" His eyes fell on Bruce. "Oh, hey, room mate?" Bruce had never been so glad to hear another American accent in his life.

"Yes, Tony." The woman sighed, with a tired smile, "This is Bruce Banner. He's a first year student too." She turned to Bruce. "Bruce, this is Tony Stark. He's in the same year as you, and taking a similar course. I'm sure you'll get along brilliantly." Bruce didn't once look away from Tony. He was trying to figure him out before she left them alone together. She gently nudged Bruce towards the door before she backed away. "And Tony? Please try and keep it down." She smiled, and Tony smiled back at her, although it was clearly sarcastic. "Remember to call your parents, Bruce, let them know you're all settled in." She chimed as she turned and wandered back down the hallway. Bruce watched her until she went around the corner, then slowly looked up to Tony, who was now wearing a more real, lopsided smile.

"So, Bruce," He tried the name on his tongue, then chuckled to himself as he walked back inside. Bruce scurried after and pulled the door closed behind himself, "You're on that side. This side is closer to the sockets." He gestured weakly to the left side of the room, that was bare. Bruce took a second to survey Tony's side of the room. It was already a mess, with clothes scattered haphazardly on the floor, and a few empty boxes lying around. His bed was unmade and there was something interesting on the floor space between the two beds; it looked like a circuit, hidden under a few plates of metal. There was a soldering iron nearby and a dirty cloth, which explained the smudges on Tony's forehead and arms. Tony himself flopped down onto his bed and sat, looking at Bruce, as if waiting for him to speak.

"Th-thanks." He stuttered, setting down his suitcase and rucksack on the mattress, along with the small pile of paper he had been given by the woman from the office. Then, he had a though. "Stark? Are you Howard Stark's son, by any chance?"

Tony made a face that told Bruce all he really needed to know; That Tony was fed up with people mentioning his father.

"Yeah, Howard's my old man." Tony sighed, collapsing backwards to lay across his bed, his head hanging off the far side. "Why'd you ask?"

"Oh, no reason, I just, I only just remembered where I'd heard your name before." Bruce nervously picked at the sleeve of his shirt. Out of nowhere, Tony picked himself back up from his bed.

"You're for real about that?" He had one eyebrow raised and was staring at Bruce intently. Bruce wasn't sure how he was supposed to answer that.

"Well, uh... Yes." His words sounded more like a question when they came out, but Tony understood, and nodded, looking to the floor thoughtfully. "Why?"

Tony looked up. "Lots of people only wanna know me because of my family's reputation, y'know? I though you'd be like them, like you just wanna know about the Stark empire." He paused, and looked Bruce up and down once more. "I like you." He stated as he stood up from the bed and carefully stepped over the mess of metal and tools on the floor to stand beside his new room mate. He presented a hand to Bruce. "How's about we start this again? You seem like the type who needs a couple of tries at this kinda thing." Bruce honestly wasn't sure what to think of what Tony had said. It was nice to be given a second chance to properly introduce himself, but he couldn't figure whether Tony had meant that he came across as socially inept or not. "Tony Stark." Tony nodded, taking Bruce's hand firmly and shaking it.

"Bruce Banner. Nice to meet you." Bruce let himself smile a little, glad that his stutter had decided to go away, at least for a little while.

Then, Bruce found himself distracted. "You haven't already started working on your course, have you?" He gestured down to the mess on the carpet, and Tony turned to look too.

"What? Nah, this is just a project of mine. I like to keep busy, y'know?" Then, he crouched down and set about clearing his things away, which basically meant stuffing it all into a battered old box and moving the box into the corner of the room, by his desk, which was cluttered with loose tools and scraps.

"What course are you taking, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Engineering. There's a fancier name for it, but it's engineering."

Bruce smiled. "That makes sense." He nodded.

"What about you?" Both of them were now perched on the edges of their beds, facing each other and the middle of the room. It was relaxed, even though Tony's music was still playing in the background. "What are you taking that's dragged you here from the states?"

Bruce thought for a moment. Given by the general aura Tony was giving off, he thought Tony probably wouldn't care what he was studying.

"Science." He said, simply. He was really studying Nuclear Physics, but it was still a science.

Tony seemed to think for a minute, before he leaned forward and flicked off the music that had been playing this entire time. The room suddenly felt a lot less relaxed in the quiet, and Bruce found himself picking at the edge of the mattress he sat on.

"You better get to unpacking, huh?" Tony sighed, gesturing limply to the bags on Banner's bed. Bruce nodded, and immediately started placing what few possessions he had been able to bring with him around his half of the room. Tony turned out to be very generous, and let Bruce spill a little over into his half of the room.

"All I need is my desk and the floor space. You're fine." He had sighed, with his head buried firmly in his 'pet project' as he soldered more components onto the central processing unit.

Then, once Bruce was settles in, he lounged on his bed, and read some more of the book that he had started on the plane over. It was his mother's favourite, she had said that Bruce should read it at least once, and take it with him so that a part of her was with him.

Speaking of his mother, he had completely forgotten to call her at Heathrow. He dropped the book and slammed his palm into his forehead, silently cursing to himself.

"You alright over there?" Tony asked. He had stopped fiddling with his project a while ago, and was laying on his bed with his iPod on. He sat up, propping himself up on his elbow, and pulled his headphones back so they hung around his neck. The faint echo of his music filled the room.

"I forgot to call my mother once we landed. She must be so worried."

Tony chuckled to himself. "Ah," he nodded, "You better get on that, before they send out a search party."

Bruce did just that. He stood from the bed and picked up the phone that sat on the small table between the two beds. He dialed in his home number and waited anxiously for someone to pick up.

"Hello?" Came a nervous sounding woman's voice, the voice of his mother. He visibly relaxed upon hearing a familiar voice, and smiled as he spoke.

"Hey, it's me." He had to pull the phone back a little as his mother laughed excitedly, and called for his father. "Hey, dad. Yeah. I made it here alright... She was really nice, I think she's the person that emailed you... Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner... Yes, it's been kind of busy."

Tony watched on intently from his bed. He couldn't help but smile at the obviously happy reunion, but some part of him was a little sad about it.

"Yes, the plane journey was fine. And the taxi driver was really nice, told me some stories. He says I have to try proper fish and chips while I'm over here... I will!" Bruce nodded, still smiling at his mother's concern, and her excitement, which seemed to be more than his own. " I'll take some photos for you, sure... I'm not sure when I'll get a chance t leave the city, though... Yeah, stranger danger, I know... My room mate? Oh, he's called Tony." There was a brief pause, then Bruce held the phone out for Tony, whispering, "She'd like to talk with you."

Tony hesitated, before switching his iPod off, taking the phone and plastering on a wide grin. "Hey there, Mrs. Banner. Yep. I'll take good care of your son. Me? Oh, engineering. Yeah, I guess we are." He laughed. "Yeah, alright, nice to meet you too, ma'am. Bye." And he handed the phone back to Bruce.

"Yeah, he is nice. Weird taste in music, though." Bruce laughed, and glanced over his shoulder to see Tony looking truly put out. "Yep... Okay, I will... Yeah... Alright... Yeah, say 'hi' for me. Bye!" And he put the receiver carefully back into the cradle, and giggled quietly to himself as he sat back down on his bed. Then, he was all too aware of hazel eyes resting on him. He looked up to see Tony, sat back on his bed, looking at Bruce almost curiously.

"What?" Bruce muttered, suddenly very nervous.

"Nothing. Nothing." He shrugged.

"Have you called your parents yet?"

Tony frowned. "Nah. I guess I should. It's been a few days." Bruce watched, and noted the heavy way in which Tony retrieved the phone and flopped back down onto his bed, resting on his front. He punched in the number and held the phone to his ear.

"Yeah, I'd like to talk to Howard Stark please... Who is it? It's his son, Tony... Yes, I am Tony... Can you just put the old man on?" Bruce was slightly taken aback. It all sounded so formal. "Hey, dad... I, I thought I should call you, y'know, let you know I made it here in one peice... Two days ago, I got here Wednesday... Yeah, working on some robot. Maybe you could use it in your shop?... No, I didn't- Yeah, okay. Give my love to mum." And with that he dropped the phone and rolled over onto his back with a loud sigh.

"You didn't call home for two days?" Bruce whispered, trying to wrap his head around it.

"Three, actually, including the day I spent travelling here." Tony stared at the ceiling as he answered.

"But why?"

"I don't know if you could tell or not, but me and my folks aren't all that close." He chuckled to himself. "I think they have a challenge where they see just how far they can pack me off. First boarding school, now England."

For some reason, Tony came across as the type of person who would have got along with his parents; he had that free flowing, carefree vibe about him. And then Bruce remembered that Howard Stark was notoriously cold and calculating, or at least, that was how he came across in all the interviews and everything Bruce had seen in the press. He suddenly felt bad, like it was his fault Tony had to call up his father. He had brought it up after all. And he had rubbed Tony's face in the relationship he had with his parents. Oh God, oh God, oh God.

Tony noted the silence, and looked down from whichever spot on the ceiling he had been staring at, and propped himself up on his right elbow, twisting himself at the middle to look at Bruce face on.

"What's up?" He sighed, finally removing his headphones from around his neck and throwing them to the floor to join the mess behind his bed.

Bruce looked up and shook his head. It would be weird for him to confess feeling to blame for Tony's different life. He didn't want to present hs new room mate with the full strangeness of his anxieties on the first day. That was how he had lost so many friends before. He had never been a loner, per say, but he had only ever surrounded himself with a select small group of people. He offered Tony a smile and shrugged.

"Okay, okay. No worries. You have your weird secrets." Tony collapsed back down onto his bed. He was quiet, and Bruce thought it was a little weird, until he looked over and saw that Stark had fallen asleep where he lay. He couldn't help but smile, and then, he started getting himself ready for bed.

It had been a long day.


End file.
